Novel & Cerita The Professor And The Madman

I muttered under my breath. Even thinking of him brought a sting of irritation. His smug tone, the way he dissected every argument I made, the way he looked at me like I was a puzzle he’d already solved. It was infuriating. And yet, there was something strange about the comparison that flickered in my mind, the confidence of the man from the party and the quiet dominance of my professor. Both sharp. Both intense. That made me laugh. It wasn’t the same. Dalton was too controlled, too closed off. My mystery man had been all heat and hunger. Brothers maybe, wouldn’t that be a twist.

her voice echoed through the silent room but no one opened the door. Her brain wasn’t working. Everything inside her felt shattered, numb, burning. Rosa forgot how to think. The betrayal was too sharp, too deep to numb. She was hurt, from the core. The professor? Professor Salvatore? The man she loves with her life? He’s a mafia? He kills? She had been living with a criminal all this time. Loving a monster disguised as a man. “Noo!” Her knees buckled and she collapsed against the door, palms slapping it weakly. Her voice cracked with pure desperation.

So, I send shards of frost directly to the boy, freezing his entire fucking face with his mouth wide open. The noise in the room suddenly dies off, and Professor Madaw clears his throat, lifting his brow at me in a ‘care to explain?’ manner. “He's been too friendly with my mate,” I reply nonchalantly and don’t miss the crack of a smile on Asad’s lips from the corner of my eyes. As expected, and much to the surprise of the new Nobles, Professor Madaw continues his lecture. Surprise gasps fill the room. These new Nobles don’t understand it yet, but they will. Pretty soon, it will all be clearer.

The class was silent, waiting for him to speak. "Good afternoon. This is psychology twenty-two hundred, the study of deviant behavior. I'm Professor Theodore Ashford. Dr. Ashford is also fine, " His modulated, deep voice resonated within the walls of the room with ease. "Now, I know half the class is here to just pass. The other half are actually up for the challenge." The sound of uneasy students shifting in their seats filled the air. Isa saw a glimmer of a smirk appear on the professor's face in response to the discomfort.

The sight before me had my throat tightening and eyes wide. There was a tall, handsome man… A tall, half naked man. A half naked god of a man standing with low dress pants and a very good looking confused expression on his face was the man who was between my legs last night and something told me he was professor Anthony Marison. “Damn.” Was all I could say.

"Welcome to English Literature. My name is Professor Alabaster, and for the next semester, you’ll be under my watch." His eyes scanned the room, sharp and authoritative, and when they passed over Belle, she thought she saw the briefest flicker of something, something dark and heated. But it was gone in an instant, replaced by the professional, unyielding facade of Professor Alabaster. Belle shifted uncomfortably in her seat, trying to focus on what he was saying. He moved around the room, talking about the syllabus, the expectations, and the importance of participation. His voice was steady, his words calculated, but underneath it all, Belle felt the tension between them building. Every time

“Yes.” The men’s faces lit up with triumph, but before they could celebrate, her smile faltered. “But… you’re my professor,” she said, glancing at Alistair before shifting her gaze to Victor and Elliot. “And you two are professors too. How is this even going to work?” Alistair’s lips curled into a smirk. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. We’ll be careful. No one will even know.” “And even if they do find out…” Victor’s expression darkened, his voice turning lethal. “They know better than to mess with us.”

He looked inhumane, their was a darkness shadowing his eyes which could make anyone tremle in their place. A terrifying scream left the professor's wife mouth as she watched the brutality infront of her. "P-please stop, h-he is d-dead" She pleaded with tears streaming down her cheeks uncontrollably. She felt like she was trapped in a nightmare. Her words had no effect on Ares as he continued to rip the professor's body into pieces, giving no mercy to his dead body even. He was driven by madness. The fucking professor dared to insult his mate by scolding her and punishing her. No one gets away after messing with because because messing with his mate means that the person is messing with him u

"Your slave did not fail in one's mission, master," the professor was kneeling down on the floor in front of the man who was sitting and drinking wine. "I commend you slave," the man praised the professor. "Master, may I be bold to ask for something?," the professor asked humbly. "Say it," the man said. "I wish for this man captured master as he is my mortal enemy," the professor said as he produced the image of Gary. But before the man could answer there were footsteps approaching from the hallway.

he commanded. “Yes, sir,” the professor mumbled and turned. The professor walked to the same table where the bald one was still confused. The bald man closed his mouth though as the professor searched the drawer. He picked up a blue folder afterward. “What are you doing with that?” the bald professor finally asked, but didn’t receive an answer. In the end, he just shook his head because he couldn’t complain about their head.